Personal Narrative: Anorexia Nervosa

It seems like yesterday when my thoughts had completely consumed my every move, and my sadness ultimately annihilated my will to live. Every day felt like the last; I had woken up reluctantly with a feeling of complete emptiness. I was, essentially, a “walking zombie”numbed of all emotion. Over the previous months of my senior year is when the bullying had started, and it seemed like it had really never ended. Even when I was at home and my peers had stopped, the comments ran through my head and tormented me every single night. My depression seemed to be everlasting. My anxiety had reached new heights, and within all the madness, I had developed severe Anorexia Nervosa.

I remember pulling up to the school every day and bracing myself …show more content…
I did not want to wake up, I was having a much better time asleep. I was free from the suffering, torment, and my own mental illnesses. With months of starving my body and dragging a razor across my wrists, I was so weak. I felt so horribly about myself and I wanted nothing more than to be dead.

My parents were out of town; my sister was busy with her boyfriend, and I was perilously obsessed with the idea that within a number of hours I would no longer be drowning in misery. I went to the cabinet that housed the medication and excitedly grasped the bottle of extra-strength tylenol. Enthusiastic, I was not, about the pain I was about to put my loved ones through, but, as disturbed and selfish as it was I was content by the idea of my pains’ denouement. Without second thought, I downed over ninety pills knowing soon I would find a peace of mind. There was nothing to do besides wait for the pills to slowly creep their way through my empty body and kill me. The last thing I can commemorate before falling into what I thought was to be my death sleep, was vigorously slitting my wrists one last time. I woke up that night, disturbingly, to myself vomiting profusely, I was laying on my bathroom floor, feeling nothing mentally but everything, physically. My whole body was contorted with seizures and cramps, my heart rate was through the roof. That is when my parents found me, they had known just by the condition my body that I was in, I had overdosed, there was white discharge all over my clothes and I was unresponsive. That is when the paramedics arrived, and strenuously strapped me to the stretcher, and I was rushed to the E.R. I was placed in the intensive care unit, monitors were arranged all over my body and needles were uniformly being injected. The doctors informed my family